


Ignition

by corruptedheroes



Category: 00silva - Fandom, James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, PWP, Skyfall AU, Smut, Tattoo Kink, bottom!James, little bit of a knife kink too, top!Silva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2029671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corruptedheroes/pseuds/corruptedheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James plays Silva’s intimidation game and to much of his surprise, the Agent can certainly deliver. Basically, it’s all good old fashion word porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignition

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Fixed some errors.

The elevator doors open with an impeccably dressed man stepping out. A tied up James Bond smiles as the villain comes closer. He’s been waiting to meet the ex-agent, the man who supposedly gets what he wants. He’s greeted and the man’s monologue continues. It’s a shame the agent isn’t quite focused on his words but rather his impressive physical attributes. He's tall, alluring, cultured, skilled and most of all, damaged. He won’t deny that fact that he finds Raoul Silva attractive. Last night trisk with Silva’s bait was quite disappointing no matter how striking her beauty was. There will be power struggle for sure, but he won’t back down.

Raoul notices the man’s stance. The agent makes no attempt to change his demeanor; he’s a cocky bastard. Not quite what he was expecting. Bond leans against his chair with shoulders back and a barely noticeable smirk on his face. Silva’s eyes being to wander down to his groin with his legs slightly apart. He’s presumptuous and egotistical which would explain a number of remarks on his profile and psychological exam. Silva can’t wait to push the limits with this one. Something about this particular agent, he can easily see why he’s _her_ favorite. Maybe, soon to be his. Silva makes his first move by pulling up a chair.

Sitting intimately close in front of his target with his knee grazing the agent’s inner thigh, Silva reaches for the first button of his dress shirt. He tells him his metaphorical story and he can tell Bond isn’t listening. He appreciates the high fashion that is clinging deliciously to his well shaped form. And perhaps it was the anticipation of meeting him, intimidating him or feeling the hot flesh underneath his fingers that makes his hands tremble.

James looks downward amused. Moving things quite quickly he sees. Silva gently traces his fingers along the curve of his adam’s apple, then to his clavicle; he allows it. James dives in head first into the devil’s temptation, no matter how badly it might fuck him up later. The man in front of him ignites a fire that has died out long ago. The agent’s breathing change to a rapid pace, refusing to deny the pleasure coursing through his body. In fact, he only wants to encourage it.

“You’re really doing this?” James asks roughly. 

“Backpedaling are we?” Silva amused by the lack of restraint made obvious by the sound of Bond’s voice. 

“No, I’m questioning whether you can deliver. I bet your hands know only the gentle curves of a delicate body.”

“Your reputation would say the same for you,” Silva throws back at him, clearly insulted.

James couldn’t believe the blond fell for the trap. Now it's time to move in for the kill. “I’m not interested in a man armed with empty promises.” To add fuel to the fire, James spreads his legs even further. Silva groans at the sight, feeling the blood rushing through his veins. He feels himself losing control. James is not all what he expected and he's losing to a man that is practically begging to be dominated. 

“Let’s see which one of us is bluffing then, shall we? No harm in that.” He draws a knife from it’s sheath underneath his jacket. The tip of the seven inch blade dances softly against his chest about to undo the next button, stalling while Silva debates his next move. 

James smiles, “Go ahead. See if you can cut through all of them without spilling blood.”

Challenge accepted, the blade quickly made it’s way down with each button falling to the ground. He looks over the agent’s chiseled chest and hums approvingly. Silva pushes the shirt past his shoulders where it rests comfortably. Not one scratch on him and he barely flinched, the agent still sitting comfortably in his chair. The blond ghostly traces the hard curves of his chest. Mr. Bond is the image of male perfection; devastatingly handsome, intelligent, heavily relies on instincts and always gets the girl in the end. Life spoils him with such luxuries.

James leans in and whispers, “¿qué estás esperando?”

His lips immediately close in on the agent’s scar on an otherwise perfect physique, leaving a trail of bite marks and kisses. Blood pumping hard in every vein in the agent’s body as his arousal desperately aching to be touched. The englishman tilts his head to allow more access to his neck with a loud moan coming from the back of his throat. _Go ahead, Silva. Claim your prize._ And his captor takes the opportunity that is given to him.

“Yes,” James whispers as he felt the sharp pain of teeth digging into his flesh.

Silva chuckles, "Is this what you’re after? Of course it is. You need something more than just a one night fuck.” His hands grip his thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath. They made their way slowly towards the tented fabric. Silva could practically make out the thick vein that runs along the side of his hard cock through the navy blue material. 

James picked up Silva’s heated gaze. _What is he waiting for?_ His hands are so close, fingers on his upper thighs; Silva is teasing him. The smallest whisper came from his lips, almost a plea, "Touch me.”

Finally, relief came all at once as blonde's hand strokes him through the expensive wool. Bond’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, lifting his hips with his rhythm. It’s not enough, but it’ll do for now and Silva is so incredibly good with his hands. Small gasps and approving moans, encourages his captor to move faster. Bonded, James is at the mercy of his captor and mercy is finally granted when the blond fishes out him out of his trousers. He grips hard around his length, slightly pitching his tip. It’s perfect. 

“Fuck, Silva!” James jumps at the sudden contact.

All of his henchmen are staring as their boss continues his interrogation, James wonders if they like watching. Silva jerks him off as if they’ve been lovers for years. A small twist of his wrist right at the tip has the agent almost leaping out of his seat. Foreheads leaning against each other, sharing each others air, a panting James whispers, "I'm so close Silva. All because of you." Silva groaned at his admission. He’s tempted to finish his prey off, watching double-oh seven’s pearly release cover his fist. But not before he has his fun with Mummy’s favorite. 

Silva abruptly stopped, tucking him back into his pants. James groans at the sudden loss of stimulation but obviously his captor has other plans. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” He cuts the ropes that binds his wrists together.

“Good.”

Silva’s eyes widen in response. _He’s just full of surprises._ After setting his wrists free, Silva wordlessly signals James to follow him. The excitement is contagious as the agent makes haste towards the elevator doors. 

The doors couldn’t close any faster. James moves fast to pin the blond against the wall, licking his delectable adam’s apple. The taste and scent of his skin is so exotic, it makes the agent feel heady. James wants to taste even more. 

_This all could be a distraction._ Silva only met the man for ten minutes and everything is moving so fast. He knows his men didn’t search him under his strict orders, because only he have the honors to do so. Silva moves his hands along the side of his companion while pulling the gorgeous agent even closer to him. Silva bit his lip, feeling the hard muscle tensing up at his touch. No weapon so far. Admittedly, enjoying the search regarding the matter at hand. But when his left hand met a small rectangular object in his coat pocket, the blond stiffens.

"What is this?" He held the broken silver object between his fingers.

“A radio. Don’t need it,” he says making quick of Silva’s waistcoat. James has to lick his lips at the sight of the ex-agent’s built figure. Silva tosses the device to the side and care not to venture on the more meaningful significance behind the gesture at the moment. The situation is rapidly spinning out of control and beyond his foresight. The last element of surprise he needed was a growing affection for an unpredictable and possibly defective agent; which happens to be his type of man. But how can one pounder such things when the man’s full lips are traveling down his chest with each button undone? 

Lower and lower he travels until he stands comfortably on his knees. James quickly releases Silva out of the tight confines of his tailor trousers. Double-oh seven couldn’t think as the events leading up to this moment were traveling at the speed of light. The need is so mind-numbingly strong, he became submissive to his own desires. His mind filled with thoughts of bring Silva to heights he’d never thought possible, making him his own through his own submission. His determination at the task grows more stronger with each gasp and whimper that comes out of Silva. The captive gains power over the captor and the high is addictive. James is all too aware of his own straining heat as he strokes himself with his free hand.

The man kneeling in front of him looks up with his intense icy blue eyes, his lower lip and tongue working circles on the tip of his cock. Suddenly the threat of climaxing prematurely became all too real for Silva. The sight could only be described as incredible. His intense gaze reels him in, swirling and lapping his tongue around the purple tip. Silva’s hand desperately finding the emergency stop button, not wanting anything to seize this moment as James swallows him whole. A cry of blinding ecstasy escapes his lips, never knowing such possessiveness nor demanding behavior. His warm and experienced mouth makes its way slowly down his shaft and in return Silva runs his fingers through James’ hair. He can’t remember the last time such a talented mouth was on him. His knees threatening to give out at the onslaught. It’s a painful oversight on his behalf of completely underestimating the agent from MI-6. The blond doesn’t censor himself as he shouts out every curse he knows in his native tongue. 

When the agent feels the thick cock in his mouth twitch, he reluctantly withdrawals. James had to physically restrain himself from finishing his captor off. He hears the growl coming from up above and smirks. He knew he could give as well as receive. James pushes the emergency button again and the elevator continues climbs up. James patiently waits, staring at his captor as they catch their breaths. Finally the elevator doors open to the top floor.

His eyes never leaving Silva’s, he makes haste of his Tom Ford suit. Silva’s hands roam over the muscular form while claiming the agent’s smart mouth. James in all he his glory stands before him, completely naked with tattoos littering his body. Each symbol and lettering dances on his ripped body as he made his way to the bedroom. The blond remembers reading his service in the Royal Navy and could safely presume that each tattoo carried significant meaning of those days as a Commander.

“Both of us, marked by our pasts. My marks are not as pretty as yours.” 

“Sit, and I saw yours on the lift. They’re amazing.” James assures him. The agent’s tanned body glisten with sweat. Silva prays to every deity known to him for a miracle of longevity with this one. James moves with such confidence and it almost irritates Silva seeing Bond using his perfect body to lower his defences only because it works so damn well. 

“I’m going to work myself open for you and you're going to sit there and watch me until I'm ready.”

Silva hesitates, “Alright, James. We’ll play it your way.”

James eyes the nightstand and Silva nods, grabbing the small lube from the top drawer, he’s careful to not to stall or the moment will be over. The display is torturous to say the least. But this is a game of control and neither of them are willing to back down. His captor takes off his clothing with maculous care. The blond strokes his lubed up length, thoroughly enjoying the show. 

The agent throws his head back, showing Silva his incredibly tempting neck. He’s still too tight as the second finger went in. His body clamps down and rejects the intrusion but James is determine to work himself open. He wants to get fucked raw. 

Silva is patient, always has been. But he’s also a selfish man as he shoves James down onto the bed head first. He proceeds to grind his hard cock on the agent’s tight and perfectly shaped ass and without warning, Silva’s thick cock went into his tight body that James screamed out in pain and pleasure. The agent knew his captor had incredible girth but the two finger prep job didn’t nearly prepare him. He’s so deliciously full, he dares not to utter a single word. James can’t find his breath and his mind is shot as he can’t even remember his own name. Silva shifts quite suddenly, which earns a yelp from his companion. 

“Ah, fuck! Silva I wasn’t done!” James bucks underneath him and tries to look over his shoulder but Silva is holding his head into place. His captor shutters on top of him, feel the agent’s body simply melt around him like butter. He stills himself, not wanting to come first because fuck he’s close. Instead he raises an eyebrow at the various tattoos that littered James’ body. Mummy’s new toy should be clean because tattoos hide the sacrifices that were made for her. Silva pulls out of the body beneath him and jams himself back in hard. James grunts, still feeling the sharp pain working up his spine but it’s perfect. He squirms, he’s still so tight.

There’s no waiting. No gentle caresses or soothing kisses to ease his pain. Silva is the one that sets the brutal pace and it still hurts for James. There is a certain anger in which Silva pounds into Bond. Anger stemming from not courting the agent sooner and the potential delay this will cause to his plan against M-I6. 

“Your body clamps down on me like a vice, my dear. I thought you were a little more experience than that. Not that it matters of course, in fact it’s quite an honor to break you in.” And with that last sentence, Silva mercilessly rams himself into that tight wet heat. The blond chants the agent’s name, waylaying his own climax. 

Silva interlocks his fingers with Bond’s. Both bodies meet in perfect harmony with now James conducting the pace, fucking himself on Silva’s thick length. The blond sees the muscular back curving towards his body, pushing himself further onto him. There’s a somewhat cartoon-looking anchor right beneath his shoulder blade, bring his captor out of feverish state for a small second. James hears the chuckle and defensively replies, “I was drunk and I was pressured by-” before he could finish his sentence, the blond pulls Bond’s head back and silences him with his lips. 

James withers, collapsing onto the soft bed. The poor agent certainly puts up a good front but he crumbles at his captor's onslaught. But God help him, it’s nothing quite like anything he’s ever felt before. It isn’t long before James adds a slight rotation to his hips as he ruts backwards to meet this captor’s rhythm which earned a loud moan from above. Silva pauses to forever engrave the sight to his memory.

“Mmm, why did you stop?” complained James.

“Just admiring the view, my dear.” The blond resumes once more. 

“That’s it, Silva,” James whimpers out, tears streaming down his face. He throws Silva a smile of total and utter bliss, eyes heavy with lust. It’s the look of victory because James knows Silva is his as his captor bends down to calm those supple lips with his own once more. Silva is close and even without the assistance, James is close too. 

“Look at you, so desperate to be filled. Beg, James...beg me to cum inside you.” Silva could barely utter the words. To prevent himself from collapsing on top of Bond, he grips the agent’s ass, leaving bruises in their wake. 

“God, fill me!” And with that, Silva cums so fucking hard with James’ body camping down around his length. The rush of endorphins numbs his mind and Silva could feels the walls of his sanity broken down by one double oh agent of MI-6. His warped sense of humor makes him think he hears wedding bells off in the distance. 

The feeling of being filled by scalding hot cum is enough to bring on his own climax and for moment his mind went blank before he could remember to breath as his captor mark him from the inside and out. Silva holds him tightly and the agent is free to finally let go. As their post-organsmic paroxysm winds down, James rolls on his back and smiles. 

“Round two? Ten minutes?”

“Of course my dear, but there IS a matter that sorely needs to be addressed.” Silva points out with his face buried in the back of Bond’s neck, leaving bite marks and kisses behind. 

James smirks, “Oh yeah, and what would that be?” 

“Join me. We’ll create our own rules and do whatever the hell we want. I’ll spoil you rotten with cars, suits, rare bourbon and trips to anywhere in the world. It’ll just be you and me, meu tesouro.” Silva held him close. 

James considers and the answer is fairly obvious to him by now. There isn’t a doubt that the blond could deliver what he promised. It’s the only kind of retirement he’ll accept besides death.

Bond turns to him with a grin, “With an offer like that, how could I refuse?”


End file.
